“Dr. Jameson is not the one who’s at risk.”
“His reputation is.”
“Your
Earl looked frustrated. “Are you saying you won’t?”
“Give me a minute to think.”
“I’ll give you ten seconds.”
“Then, no. I’m too scared. Of a repeat of what happened in London, only worse.”
“What happened in London was caused by all that wrestling you made me do. If you’ll stop arguing about it, and cooperate instead, then-”
“I
I heard my mouth say it, cold and quiet, to mean it. His whole manner suddenly changed. Then, also quiet, to mean it, he said: “No, you won’t, will you.”
“I don’t want you dropping dead beside me-”
“No, Joan. Don’t lie.” He stepped closer. “That isn’t why. You sound quite noble, but there’s one thing wrong with it, slightly. You won’t cooperate because you don’t want to cooperate. I feel like a fool.”
“Earl-”
“You’ve been playing a game with me, haven’t you? You’ve been pretending it’s me you want, when actually it’s my money-my fortune, this house, these servants, and the rest that I’ve given you. It’s-”
“Earl, it’s not, as I can prove.”
“O.K., start proving.”
“If it were what you’ve said, all I’d have to do is cooperate and lo and behold, a corpse would be holding me-and everything would fall in my hands. Instead of which, for your own good, I refuse to cooperate at the risk of your life. Now, does that prove it?”
“It might have, when I still was at risk. Now, it does not.”
“Well, you might think this new treatment is a sure thing, but I call it wishful thinking, and possibly quackery, and if I’m right you could die from it. What else can I say?”
But he was shaking his head. “There’s nothing you can say, because you’re not telling the truth. You’re lying to me, also to yourself.”
“Oh, you know what I tell myself? I wish you’d tell me how.”
“Be glad to. What your eyes say is not the same as what’s coming out of your mouth. They have the same identical look as that boy of yours, when he screamed at me. You look exactly like him, Joan, and your eyes say the same thing. He hated me, and you do. I’ve been suspecting, since London, since you wouldn’t let me touch you, since you insisted we fly home early. And now-”
I tried to take hold of his arm, but he shook me off, then at the top of his lungs he called: “Jasper!
From the kitchen, and then out the dining room door, along came Boyd, buttoning his coat as he ran. “Jasper’s got the day off today, Mr. White, remember?” Earl didn’t answer, just stormed out to the car and got in. Boyd followed, bent low beside the window, touched his cap at some word from inside, got in, and drove off.
I didn’t feel like dinner, and went out to the kitchen to explain to Araminta, as well as to Myra, who was also on duty. I apologized for having no appetite, and they said that was O.K. They were quite nice about it, but I could tell by their manner they knew why.
I went upstairs and stewed-but then after a while felt hungry after all. Having passed up the dinner they’d already made, though, I couldn’t change my mind and ask them to do it over. Then I knew where I would eat. Going out through the kitchen again, I surprised Araminta and Myra having their own dinner together, and told them: “If Mr. White comes in while I’m gone, will you tell him I’ll be back around nine or ten? There’s something I have to do. I’m using my car, tell him.”
“Yes, Miss Joan. We will.”
I drove to the Garden, parked, and went in the cocktail bar. It was jammed, with Bianca helping Liz cover. Bianca came over, shook hands, asked how I’d been, and then when I explained I’d come for dinner, brought me to a table, the same one Earl had sat at and that Tom had sat at, and asked what I was going to have. “What have you got?” I asked her. “I’m good and hungry.”
“Roast beef, fried chicken, goulash.”
“I’ll have the goulash, Bianca.”
The goulash was done to her own special recipe, and she was quite proud of it, so it was kind of a compliment to her that I said I’d have it. She went out in the kitchen to call it while I went over and shook hands with Jake, then put my arms around Liz, kissed her, and said “Surprise, surprise.” Then, taking my starters to the table as I’d done for customers so many times-the napkin, knife, fork, spoon, bread, and butter that everyone got with dinner-I sat down. But I suddenly had an impulse: “Never mind serving me, Bianca,” I told her. “I’ll eat in my usual place.”
So, carrying my starters back through the swinging door, I went out in the kitchen, shook hands with Mr. Bergie, as well as the dishwasher boy, who was new. Then I told Mr. Bergie: “I’m the goulash Bianca just called- and I’ll have it here at my regular spot.” I seated myself at the same folding table I’d sat at my first night, between the stove and the pantry door. I made myself comfortable and waited while Mr. Bergie put my plate together. Then I went and got it, used the cutlery I had in my hand, sat down and ate it. “Goulash is nice tonight,” I told him, and he gave a little salute. I took some salad from the crisper, decided to skip dessert, and drew myself black coffee. Then I sat there and sipped it, feeling easy, relaxed, and as though I was with friends.
When I went back to the bar, the dinner rush had eased off, and I sat down at my same table, to continue my talk with Liz. “Someone was in,” she whispered.
“… Oh? When?”
“Today, right after we opened.”
“… And?”
“I told him I’d seen you.”
“O.K.”
I tried to act unconcerned, but she did not let me get away with it. She just stood there and waited, and finally I couldn’t take it any longer. “Well?” I burst out. “What did he say?”
“That he couldn’t care less-or words to that effect.”
“… So? He couldn’t care less.”
But she stood there some more, and then once again I burst out: “And what did you say?”
“Nothing I could repeat.”
Then: “I told him stop handing me horseshit, that if he wanted to hear the rest, say so.”
“And? Did he?”
“What do you think?”
“And what did you tell him then?”
“Baby, I don’t know if I did right, but there’s such a thing as heading a mess off-I mean, if he knew what you told me today, he could feel better already, and not go barging off to do something foolish. So, I took the liberty. I told him what you said-not all, but so he got the idea.”
“What idea, Liz?”
“That you’re hooked on him still and haven’t slept with your new husband because of it.”
“But-that’s not true.”
“Then I misunderstood you when you said you hadn’t consummated. If I told it wrong, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t misunderstand that-it’s just as you told him it is. But not for that reason. I wish it was, but it’s not.”
“Baby, I’m getting dizzy.”
“Liz, if it was as you said, that I have that kind of marriage on account of torching for Tom, I’d say so, I’d be only too glad, I wouldn’t be too proud. But it’s not that. If I could, I’d have gone through with it, Liz-the lawyer told me I had to. But it came to a head tonight, everything just as I feared it would. And I
“So, you’re leaving him?”
